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Panic rose inside me, making my insides shake and quiver.
Noah: About us? No. Although maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to broach the subject with him.
Aurora: Not yet. It’s too soon.
We hadn’t even defined whatever it was we were doing.
Noah: And I want to respect your wishes, I do. But when will be the right time, shortcake?
I didn’t reply fast enough, and Noah texted again.
Noah: Can we talk about this in person?
Aurora: Later. If I survive my ‘talk’ with Austin.
“Coffee’s ready,” my brother called, and I climbed out of bed with a little huff.
Everything had been so wonderful last night, but as I suspected, I’d come back down to earth with an almighty bang this morning.
Pulling on a Lakeshore U hoodie, I went to the bathroom and then headed down to find my brother.
“Morning,” he said gruffly.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Sit. I’ll get you coffee.”
“Thanks. Is everything okay, Austin?”
“This arrived this morning.” He pushed a small box toward me. “It was addressed to me, but it’s for you.”
“It is?” My hand hovered over the flap, trepidation bubbling inside me. “What is it?”
“You tell me.”
“What—” I sucked in a thin breath as I opened the flaps and glanced inside. “She sent this.”
It wasn’t a question because the care package, if you could call it that, had Susannah Hart written all over it.
“What the fuck is all that?” Austin gritted out.
“Really?” I asked with barely contained sarcasm. Because while my brother had chosen to ignore my issues over the years, he wasn’t a clueless idiot. So the fact he was acting like one pissed me the hell off.
“Why the fuck is she sending you diet pills and supplements? And brochures for local cosmetic surgeons?”
My stomach didn’t just drop, it plummeted into my toes. “W-what?”
“See for yourself.”
With trembling hands, I removed the bottles of pills from the box, and sure enough, there was a heap of literature about local clinics providing Cellulaze, Lyma, and various other cellulite-reduction therapies.
“I…” Bile clawed up my throat.
“Aurora, I swear to fucking God. If you don’t tell me what’s going on—”
“It’s nothing,” I said, swallowing hard, refusing to do this.
To give him an explanation now, after all this time, when all I’d ever wanted was for him to understand.
